She took a steadying breath and for the first time, she let her secret fly free from the cage of her heart. “When I realized I was with child, I was overcome with grief and guilt. Whatever happened, my body rejected it, and I buried its little body beneath my favorite tree in the Aelderwood. The tree Erik and I had our first kiss beneath.” More tears spilled from the corner of her eye. “Sometimes I think it knew I didn’t want it, and it claimed its own life in the womb. No matter what I tell myself, it always feels like my fault.”
“You did this alone? Gods below…” he cursed. “It wasn’t your fault, Ailsa. None of it was.”
“There is nothing you can say that I haven’t already told myself.”
He reached for her cheek and caught a tear before it reached the pillow, rubbing the drop between his fingers. “Sometimes words sound different coming from someone else. Sometimes we need to see ourselves through another person to remind us what we truly look like. You’ve done that for me, and I wish to do that for you.It was not your fault, Ailsa. Fate is crueler to some than others. Do not add to your misery by being cruel to yourself as well.”
He was right. She had told herself the same thing for the last seven years, yet when he said the words, something lifted beneath her skin. Vali knew guilt, experienced the power shame had on a person’s perspective, like a broken spyglass that skewed how the future and the past appeared when looked through. Perhaps she could stop seeing herself through that remorseful filter. Maybe begin liking the woman in the mirror who knew pain and rejection, and still loved herself fully despite them both.
She offered him a smile in gratitude and a silence stretched between them before he spoke again. “This sickness… does it claim your people quickly?”
Ailsa nodded. “It always feels manageable until one day it isn’t. None of the women in my family live very long, most die in their thirties for some reason. My mother was the quickest of them all, and I fear I will beat her record.” She stared up the rafters, wondering if things would have been different in those days if she had a mother’s guidance. “That child was my one chance at having a legacy, to have a part of me live on after I died. But perhaps it is better this way, and the sickness dies with me.”
Vali shook his head, making the bed creak. “You know, the rivers in Alfheim are known to be sources of miraculous healing. I don’t know if they could heal you but…”
“I won’t get my hopes up, but I’ll try anything,” she mumbled.
“Good,” Vali said. “But you must promise me something.”
“What’s that?”
His eyes traveled over the quilt outlining the harsh curves of her figure and her toes curled under his inspection. She despised how her body was beginning to react to him and his gilded attention. He said, “If you drink from the river and are healed, you must find someone who places your worth in who you are, not in what you can do for them.”
Ailsa fought the stupid grin that wrangled itself on her lips. “In other words, don’t go back to Erik.”
“Exactly.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “I don’t think that is an option I even have at this point.” She took a deep breath and felt her lungs fight back. “Would you mind if I had a smoke before bed? My chest is feeling a little tight.”
He gestured to the dresser at the other end of the room where Ivor had left her bag of herbs. “Of course not. Bring them over here so I can see how you mix them. Just in case I need to know one day.”
Ailsa eyed him carefully but retrieved her herbs without saying anything. She found the bundle bag and spread it along the top sheet, dread rolling over her heart. Her stash was getting low. She had only prepared for a few days across the Great Sea, not an epic journey across the Nine Realms.
“You’re running out.” He read the look on her face. She nodded solemnly before mixing half a dose of her usual to ration the rest. He watched her crush the herbs in her pestle and sprinkle it into the pipe Ziggy had crafted for her many winters past.
When she was through, she slipped beneath the covers and faced Vali, who was still lounging on top. She reached out and pressed her palm where his heart should have been, checking to see if it had somehow grown back. The male she was speaking to seemed too thoughtful to not have one.
“What happened to your heart, Vali?” she asked quietly.
The elfin stared at the ceiling to avoid her gaze and ran a hand over a long, jagged scar marring the runes across his skin. “The first and last woman I loved stole it.”
Ailsa’s brows kissed. “Like literally stole it?”
“Yes. She was working for a witch who knew my mission. They believed if they cut out my heart, stabbed it, and burned it to ash then I would finally die and could not fulfill my destiny. But the runes Odin burned into my skin protect me from death until I succeed in bringing him the Tether.”
“Why bring him the Tether if it will only make you vulnerable after? Wouldn’t youwantto live forever?”
“It’s not really living if your life is always controlled by someone else.”
Ailsa slipped her hand from his bare chest; her own heart beating like a war drum. The easiness of touching him was startling, more pleasant than it should have been. Her palm hummed where she touched him—the rest of her skin suddenly envious, wanting to how those vibrations would feel everywhere else. She tucked her palm into her chest instead. “Who was this woman you loved?”
He shut his eyes and shook his head as if dismissing the thought of her. “Someone who loved gold and glory more than she loved me.”
Ailsa found her heart aching for him. “I’m sorry, Vali.” She meant it. “I bet she’s somewhere writhing knowing all she had to do was lock you outside during a thunderstorm.”
Laughter burst from his chest, the sudden jovial interruption made her jump, pleasantly surprised he could even make the sound. “Technically I didn’t die, and I probably wouldn’t have if you would have waited.”
“Oh, so now this is my fault?”